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#it took me forever to get patreon stuff done this month sorry >n<
kirby-the-gorb · 3 years
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k-llama-llama · 4 years
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Ballet Boy
Stray Kids AU: 9th member
Tori x Stray Kids
Chan tires to butt in on Tori’s ballet practice
A/N: Sorry it was a little later than usual but please enjoy! Please check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive posts you can’t get anywhere else, as well as lots of other cool benefits!
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“I should’ve known I’d find you here.”
Tori looked up from her stretching. “I literally just got here, so you’re lucky you caught me.”
“I’m lucky, am I?” Chan sauntered over, smiling as he took her in. “Can I have a kiss?”
Tori peeked towards the door. There was no one to be seen, so she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Fine. But you can’t distract me, I’m here to practice.”
“Ballet?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the bench, still holding her hand in his. “You’re in your ballet stuff.”
Tori looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a black leotard and tights, with a little pink practice skirt overtop. Truth be told, she was trying to brush up on her ballet skills because she’d had an idea on how to incorporate it into the choreography of the song she was working on. But seeing as how she hadn’t told any of the boys about her song....
“It’s been forever since I practiced it.” She told him. “I’ve missed it.”
Chan played with her fingers. “Then you should practice it more.”
Tori smiled. “You aren’t going to tell me that I should be avoiding any practice that isn’t dedicated to the group?”
He grinned. “Of course not. It makes you happy, so it makes me happy.”
Tori beamed, leaning down to press another kiss to his lips. “You earned that one.”
“I thought I did.” He smiled. “But since I’m here, can I see a little bit?”
Tori sighed. “I haven’t really practiced in months. I’m not going to be that good.”
“I don’t care. I want to see.” He insisted, letting go of her hands.
Tori went over to where she was setting up the music. She’d decided to brush up on her skills by practicing a choreography from Giselle, which was one of her favourites. 
“Don’t you need those tip-toe shoes?” Chan asked.
Tori shook her head. “I enjoy all of my toes being intact, thank you. I’m not jumping back en pointe without properly strengthening my legs first.”
“It can’t be that hard, right?”
Tori rolled her eyes. “Okay, hot shot. Come here.” She crossed her arms.
Sensing the challenge, Chan rose from the bench, dropping his hat on the ground. “Let’s go. I’m about to become a ballerina.”
“Sure you are.” Tori stood next to him. “Let’s go, one foot.”
She stood on one foot, waiting until Chan did the same. He grinned at her, looking smug at his success.
“Now hop forward.” She hopped forward twice, watching as he followed.
“Easy.” He crossed his arms. “I thought you said this was going to be hard.”
Tori tilted her head. “If it’s so easy, follow me.”
She hopped again, this time rising onto her tip toes and tapping her other foot against her knee. It was a poor imitation of the move from Giselle, which was done on pointe and to music and just generally looked better than this, but as she hopped across the room Tori didn’t think she was doing a terrible job. 
She stopped and turned to face Chan. “Your turn.”
He pressed up onto his tiptoes, already wobbling slightly, and started hopping. He went to tap his other foot on his knee once, and barely managed to move it before struggling to regain his balance. On his second hop, he kicked it too hard and kicked himself in his knee.
“Ow, ow!” He dropped back to both feet. “How did you make that look so easy?”
Tori flipped her hair. “Years of practice, Christopher. Years of practice.”
Chan sighed, walking over to her. “Fine, you proved your point.”
“Which was?”
“Hmmm,” He wrapped one arm around her waist, trying to pull her closer. Tori just looked stubbornly in the other direction.  “That ballet is really hard and impressive?”
“Not quite.”
“That I’m an idiot?”
“Closer.”
“That...” He pressed a finger to her nose, forcing her to look at him. “That my girlfriend is a total badass?”
Tori smiled. “Bingo.”
“Seriously.” He smiled as she settled into the embrace. “I don’t know how you made that look so easy. And graceful. You sure you need to practice?”
“Yeah, if I want to be ready for-” She caught herself. “If I want to stay in shape.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” He insisted. “You look great.”
“Thank you. But I won’t if my boyfriend keeps distracting me.”
Chan bit back a smirk. “Fine, fine. I can take a hint. I’ll leave you alone now.”
He pulled back from the hug.
“I’ll miss you.” Tori blew him a kiss with a laugh.
“Yeah, whatever.” He shook his head, picking his hat up off the floor. “I’ll be back in two hours to take you out for smoothies.”
Tori held her hands to her heart. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I don’t know. Have fun breaking your toes.” He opened the door to the studio. “Love you.”
“Love you too!”
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impala-dreamer · 6 years
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Broken Crown - Chapter Seven
~Sam Winchester has never had the best timing. Now, as he and Dean close in on a chance to save Mary and Jack, and in turn the entire world, Sam falls in love. He can only hope this time will be different.~
Reader, Sam
2,128 Words
Chapter Warnings:  Light Angst. s13 Spoilers. Talk of past traumas.
Broken Crown Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon
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It took much longer to explain than Sam had hoped, but thankfully Y/N was able to follow along easily. Being able to skip the whole ‘the supernatural is real’ speech was helpful too. Sam found it almost comforting that she understood already; there was no easing her into the idea of his life, because it was her life too. While she was far from a Hunter, being chased by demons for her entire adult life put things in perspective.
“What makes you think I can open the…”
“Rift,” Sam reminded her.
“Right. Rift. How do you know I can open it? 
Sam sighed and shrugged, tossing his hands up as he sat back. “Honestly, I don't. We're just grasping at straws right now and you're the closest straw we can find.”
“Oh.” Y/N looked down and away; a sadness overtaking her features. “What if I can't?”
“Then...we...figure something else out. Either way, we're going to help you stay safe, Y/N. I promise.” 
Sam leaned forward as he spoke and reached across the table to take her hand. Y/N flinched as he approached, pulling her hands back quickly and groaning as the movement tore at her injuries. 
“Shit, I'm sorry,” Sam whispered, falling quickly away. 
“No, it's OK.” Y/N went to stand up and teetered a bit, falling back down, dizzy. She clamped a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. 
“Are you alright?”
“I...yeah. Just, everything kinda hurts, ya know?” 
Sam smiled sadly. “We should change your bandages today, too,” he offered, “if you're up to it.” 
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Sam moved briskly down the hall, his bootfalls echoing gently as he carried the med kit to Y/N’s door. They had put her up in what was generally considered to be Castiel's bedroom, but since he never slept or stayed around long enough to need a private room, Dean didn't think he would mind. Also, it was the only other room set up for company, as they were unconsciously preserving both Jack and Mary's bedrooms for their return. Sam had yet to go through and clean out the five other bedrooms; there didn't seem to be a point. It wasn't like they had a ton of guests anyway. But now that he thought about it, his life did feel a lot fuller lately. It was nice to have company, other people who stayed there, and he wondered vaguely if Y/N would stay long. 
He didn't knock. He should have, but his mind was elsewhere. It was back in the field of wildflowers that had become the landscape for his dreams, both night and day. When his mind wandered, it brought him back there; he could feel the sun, smell the petals, taste the air. It was comforting and distracting all at once, but Sam didn't worry on it too much; it was just a fantasy.
Had he not been so wrapped up in the imaginary sunshine, he would have minded his manners. As it was, Sam opened Y/N’s door without so much as pausing or calling her name first. The portal opened and Sam woke from his daydream to see her slowly pulling her shirt over her head, stripping to allow better access to her wounds. 
Her back was to him, and she did not hear his approach. Sam was drawn into the room, still light and buzzing from the daydream. He floated towards her, his eyes sliding up and down the delicate curve of her back. Her hair fell down in slow motion as she tossed the shirt aside, landing like silk against her shoulders, and Sam's heart skipped too many beats. It thudded in his chest and he took another step, sighing as he neared her.
Y/N felt him approach and jumped away, gasping in shock and scrambling to cover herself. “Sam!” she yelped, ducking down to grab up the shirt she'd thrown away. She held it to her chest, modestly hiding as her face burned with embarrassment. 
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” Sam spun around, finally shaken back to reality by her cry. “Y/N, I am so sorry. I should have knocked.”
“Yeah, ya should have!” she agreed loudly, still clinging to her shirt, afraid to move and accidentally give him a peek. 
“I'm so sorry,” he said again, raising a hand to shield his eyes. “I-I can go. I should go. I'm gonna go.”
Y/N laughed at his stuttering and reached out, laying her hand on his elbow. “It's OK,” she smiled. “Too late now.”
Sam slowly turned back and found that pretty smile once more. It was so bright and lovely that it almost eclipsed the broken blood vessels that covered her face. Almost. 
“So, uh, bandages.” Sam cleared his throat and gripped the med kit, holding it up as evidence. 
Y/N nodded and took a step back, wrapping the shirt across her chest like a bandana. “Where do you want me, doc?”
“On the bed,” he said with a little too much enthusiasm and they both blushed. “Please.”
Biting her lip, Y/N sat carefully on the edge of the bed and waited for Sam to come over. “All ready for ya.” 
Sam laughed awkwardly and set the kit next to her. He pulled the chair from the desk by the door and sat in front of her, close enough to do what he needed to do, but trying not to let his knees touch hers. He tended to her face first, gently dabbing the cut on her brow with the alcohol swab, cringing apologetically when Y/N winced at the cold pain. 
“Sorry.”
“Hey, Sam?”
“Hmm?”
“I wanted to ask you… when you saw my license… why did my birthday scare you?”
Sam paused, his hand hovering over her cheek. “It didn’t scare me.”
Y/N raised her good eyebrow. “Mind reader, remember? It freaked you out. Why?”
Sam gave her cheek another dab and then sat back, tossing the now pink square onto the lid of the kit. “November 2, 1983, my mother was killed by a demon. Burned our house down, made my dad crazy, basically… that’s the day that set my entire life in motion.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“I had no idea, Sam. I’m so sorry.” Y/N looked up at him with big, sad eyes.
Sam shrugged, reaching forward to peel away the tape on her shoulder. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I guess seeing that exact date… I don’t know, it shocked me a bit.” 
“I can imagine. That’s horrible.” She shivered as if the memory were hers. 
“It’s OK,” he said, trying to brush it off. 
“It’s not OK,” she argued, dropping a hand onto his wrist. “Sam, that’s terrible. I’m sorry you lost her.”
He smiled politely, holding back the pain she was inadvertently sending to the surface. “It’s...it’s in the past. Mom’s back now. Well, sort of. Well, she is but…” As he rambled, Sam ripped the bandage off her neck too quickly and Y/N gasped as the tape pulled her cut back open. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
He scrambled to staunch the thin stream of blood that flowed from the base of her neck, his worry rising with each second. Y/N grabbed his hand and looked him in the eye firmly. 
“Relax. It’s alright. Let’s talk about something else.” He nodded and she went on. “You said you knew why I can do what I can do. What’d you mean?”
Sam took a breath and steadied his hand. “I think,” he began to explain, “that you're like me. Or, like I was.”
“What, awkward around girls?” 
Sam straightened up, shocked by her words, but her teasing smile calmed him instantly. “Yeah, I guess,” he laughed.
“Sorry, ya left that one open for me. I had to.” 
He reached to continue his work, and took a deep breath. “You're funny.”
“Sometimes,” she admitted with a slight shrug. “I just like to see you smile. You don't do that a lot.”
Sam paused, looking up from her shoulder and into her eyes. “I guess I haven't had much reason to lately. Or ever.”
“That's terrible.” 
Her eyes were so big and filled with genuine sympathy that Sam nearly forgot what he was doing. They sat like that for a long moment, each staring into unfamiliar yet somehow comforting eyes, until Sam's hand slipped and brushed against her chest.
They broke apart, ripping their eyes away, sheepishly trying to ignore the tension between them. Sam cleared his throat and went on, talking as he cleaned her cuts. He spoke of his mother's deal with Azazel, and the blood he was fed as an infant. He theorized that the same had been done to her, given the timing and her preternatural skill set.
“It seems to fit,” he said, carefully peeling the last bandage away. “But I could be wrong.”
“I wish I knew,” Y/N sighed. “I can't imagine my mother dealing with demons.” She gave a far off laugh, stuck in a memory.
“I uh, I saw how they died. I'm sorry.”
Y/N shook her head, biting her lip and staring over his shoulder at nothing. “The news reports were wrong. I... my dad was dead before the crash. He...I killed him.”
Sam's fingers left her skin and he sat back. “What happened?”
A thin film of tears covered her eyes and she blinked them away. “It was an accident. I’d been having...I don't know, fits, I guess. The voices were attacking me for months and then suddenly I could move things, do things, make stuff happen and…” Her voice trailed off, but Sam didn't speak or move, letting her talk at her own pace. “When I would get upset, bad things would happen. Real bad. That night, we'd all gone to dinner for my mom's birthday. Mikey was there too, my little brother. He lived in California, we hadn't seen him in forever. We started joking around about how he had his life already together and going well and I was still some loser with no direction. It was just ribbing at first and then… they all kept at it and I started getting upset and my dad…” Y/N stopped and looked at Sam, her eyes fully red now with the painful memory. “I didn't mean to. I just…everyone was yelling and the voices were so loud. I could hear my family's thoughts as well as their words and everyone… I just… I exploded and the next thing I knew, Dad's slumped over the wheel, I...I think I stopped his heart. And then the crash and…”
When Sam spoke, his voice was coated in sadness that mirrored hers. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered, and her eyes flashed back to his. 
“It absolutely was my fault, Sam.” She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “I killed my family. I couldn’t control...whatever this is inside of me and now they’re all dead. I did that. No one else.”
“You couldn’t control it,” he argued gently. “That’s not your fault. You had no guidance. You didn’t mean to do it.” 
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t bring them back, does it? It doesn’t erase what I did. It doesn’t…” Y/N grit her teeth and closed her eyes. “...doesn’t get rid of this...rip inside of me.”
“I’ve done things,” Sam said, trying to ease her suffering just a bit. “Horrible things. Things I wish everyday that I could take back, undo, just… fix. But I can’t. I can apologize, I can beg for forgiveness, and I can move on, try to do the right thing, make the world better from here on out. You can’t go back.”
Y/N batted a tear from her cheek and pulled in a deep breath. “Keep moving forward, right?”
“Yeah,” he smiled softly. 
“Your mom,” she said, clearing her throat and looking back at him. “She’s alive now, you said?”
Sam nodded, noting her need to change the subject. “Yeah, it’s… complicated, but she’s alive.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It is,” he sighed. “I just hope we can get her back.” 
The last clean bandage fit into place and Sam smoothed the final piece of tape over her skin. Before his fingers moved away, Y/N grabbed them in hers and squeezed them tight as she looked up into his eyes. “Sam, I want to try to help.” 
He smiled and closed his free hand around hers, loving how warm and soft she was. It felt right to hold her like this, to be this close. “I don’t know that it’ll work,” he said sadly. 
Y/N returned his smile and bit her lip. “Can’t hurt to try.”
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